Stratos Colman's 1971 Chevelle SS

Stratos Colman appreciates a rare car. Hes sitting on 87 Buick GNX Serial Number 17, and he owns a pair of Mecham-prepped F-bodies: a silver 98 T/A ragtop, and the first 2000 Z29R (as seen in the May 00 issue of Chevy High Performance). He blames your author for his two Mechams (from a story I did back in the Mesozoic era, three and a half years ago). Occasionally hell get a wild hair and bounce an idea for a car off me, which usually feeds the monster of his desire; weve thrown around everything from powertrains to color schemes. He has (more than once) pitched the idea of getting his hands on some prime muscle material, like a 64 GTO or maybe an early second-generation Trans Am, and building a modern high-tech marvel out of it. Nothing wrong with either of those choices, though his slightly alarming default impulse, to start with a restored high-dollar collector car, seems an expensive way to go about it if you're just going to tear everything apart anyway. Would not a LeMans or an Esprit do just as well? Hey, the man wants what he wants. It's his money, after all.

All the while, he was quietly building this Chevelle, and now that its completed and rolling along quite nicely, you can see how it plays to the mans automotive instincts. Stratos treads a fine line hereone that will drive many folks nutty. On the one hand, hes modified an original LS5 A-body. Big-block, Hurst-shifted rock-crusher M22 four-speed, 12-bolt rear its got all the right equipment, and it was all put there by the factory. But one look will tell you that purists will cry heresy and travel en masse to the NJ/NY border for a lynching party. Such an immaculate part of automotive history and its being futzed with? The horror!

On the other hand, its hard to argue with the simple, tasteful mods Stratos has madeall of which enhance driveability, which is the one thing that Stratos cars have in common. Tire technology alone has come a long way in 30 years, and todays big-inch, low-profile rubber rides as well as yesterdays 70-series bias-plys, and corner better to boot. Hotchkis suspension arms all around keep things planted firmly and help the Yokohama rubber extend its prodigious grip. Eibach coils dump things an inch all around, and there are 12-inch discs from a 96 Impala hanging off the B-body spindles. The battery was moved into the trunk to help weight balance and clean up the engine bay as well.

The interior was done with an eye toward cruising comfort: cream-colored leather everywhere, form-fitting seats pirated from an 87 Camaro, Simpson belts, custom door panels and kick panels, a small-diameter Grant wheel, ACC carpet, and a boomin Blaupunkt stereo. Visually, the Mulsanne Blue beauty was left alone, save for the addition of the front air dam (a repro unit meant for a 70 GTO Judge). The engine features some minor cylinder head work and freshened internalsnothing radical.

Through it all, Stratos didnt hack a single weld or put a torch to anything to get these pieces on. If he wanted to, he could make the car into a stocker tomorrow. After a quick spin behind the wheel, though, we cant imagine why hed want to. He says hes just purchased a rough-but-running 64 Pontiac hardtop and that hes going to go overboard. He swears up and down that its a Tempest. Whew.